by Kelly Napoli
CHAPTER 30
ANSWERS
Sinsenta took a very quire path. As she desperately tried to avoid hitting or running into anything else, Kiethara began to wonder if he was just traveling in circles. Sinsenta was also frequently looking over his shoulder, as though he could sense that he was being followed. Or that he expected it. How many enemies did he have?
Kiethara didn’t know why she was following him. It was not part of her plan; it would not help her return to the forest any faster. It had only been a sudden and unshakable impulse. It wasn’t as though he was going to help her; however, it would be fun to turn visible again just to see the look on his mangled face.
It was foolish and risky to be doing this, yet she could not force herself to stop. Maybe it was because she had recognized him when she had expected to see only strangers; maybe it was because her curiosity would eat her up if she did not satisfy it now.
Aaron’s voice sounded in her head; she recalled it so well her stomach ached with homesickness again. He, no doubt, would have been furious if he knew what she was up to. He would be lecturing her, pointing out how her actions were juvenile and naïve. But something—her instinct, perhaps—was urging her to carry on. She was old enough and wise enough to make her own decisions. Anyway, Aaron wasn’t here to stop her.
Sinsenta continued along his long, windy path, leading her into a rather poor area of the kingdom. It amused her to find out that Sinsenta wasn’t rich. It seemed like his services to her father were a bit underappreciated, and the thought made her smile.
Again, he looked over his shoulder. Why was he so paranoid? She looked over her shoulder, too, but she didn’t see anything suspicious. Of course, if people could see her, she would look more suspicious than Sinsenta did. He blended in with the dirty, dark men here perfectly.
Sinsenta finally slowed down at a corner and leaned against the nearest wall. He turned his head, gradually, in every direction, even up. It was smart of him, for humans rarely ever looked up. It was unnecessary, though, because no threat was found up there.
She herself carefully crossed the road and leaned against the same wall, eyeing Sinsenta. His eyes were annoyed and cautious and she was itching to find the reason behind their intimidating spark. Was he here because Gandador had sent him, or maybe because Gandador lived here himself? Her stomach flipped at that last possibility, but considering her environment, it didn’t really surprise her.
After a few more minutes, Sinsenta heaved himself off the wall. She waited just a moment before quickly padded along after him, trying to keep her bare feet as silent as possible. He turned left and walked several paces, and then turned left again. If Kiethara had been keeping track correctly, she was positive they could have made it to the same street in half the time if they had gone a different route.
Sinsenta sauntered up to a dilapidated shack. It was wooden, though not built well, with musty windows. The roof above was missing several shingles. He stepped up to the doorstep and knocked six times.
Kiethara realized that if she wanted to follow him any further then she needed to be a lot closer. She quickly hurried up behind him, just as the door was opened by some unseen force. Sinsenta swiftly stepped inside, and it was all she could do to not touch Sinsenta or get hit by the closing door.
Now that she was a mere inch from Sinsenta’s back, she hardly dared to breathe.
“Afternoon, Sinsenta,” a rough voice from behind Kiethara wheezed.
Kiethara started, turning to see a shady figure leaning against the wall behind the door, as though he were deliberately hiding. Only a small ray of sunlight managed to filter its way in through the musty window, so the only details about him that she could make out was that he looked to be the same age as Raynock, and his face was heavily scarred.
“Afternoon,” he said indifferently, not even sparing the man a quick glance. “He’s here, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Good, good,” Sinsenta said. He walked towards the opposite wall, where there were two doors, and entered the door on the left.
He, unfortunately, did not open the door very wide. Kiethara compressed her body as much as she could, straying not a half inch from his back, but the door still nicked her foot. Sinsenta glanced over his shoulder, puzzled when the door hit resistance, but when he tried to close it again, the door swung shut without difficulty. Kiethara had dashed to the furthest corner in the room. With a silent sigh of relief, she looked up.
Her heart exploded; thumping so hard in her breast she brought her hands to her chest in alarm.
Gandador was sitting behind a desk in the middle of the roof, his harsh black eyes staring intently towards Sinsenta. Numerous candles littered the wooden surface, creating an eerie, flickering atmosphere in the windowless room. His arms were crossed and he was leaning casually back in his chair, as though already bored with the man before him. Sinsenta looked rather nervous; he bowed his head in respect and froze that way.
“Rise, Sinsenta,” Gandador sighed in a rather impatient tone.
Sinsenta rose, wringing his hands like a small boy who had been caught doing something wrong and knew he was about to be punished for it.
“You’re late,” Gandador stated.
Sinsenta did not reply, but shuffled his feet and bowed his head again. It was clear that the man in front of him inspired a lot of fear.
“You’re late, Sinsenta!” Gandador repeated, raising his voice.
“Forgive me,” he mumbled. “I was delayed slightly.”
“We’re you followed?”
“No, I’m positive,” Sinsenta replied, sounding a bit more confident.
“Good. Now what news do you bring with you today? Hopefully something we can both enjoy?”
“Well, yes…” Sinsenta replied hesitantly, sounding unsure.
“What is it?” Gandador asked, his voice sharp.
“Not to worry, sir. He’s dead, but he didn’t have it. A different man ran off with it, supposedly, and I couldn’t catch him.”
Gandador suddenly slammed his fist down on the desk, his expression livid.
“Do you understand the opportunity you’ve lost us?!” he said, his voice low, making the words twice as deadly.
“Yes, but I will find them. I swear it,” Sinsenta said, bowing his head.
“Goodness knows you will,” he said, crossing his arms again. “Even if you have to swim to the bottom of the sea.”
Sinsenta paled as he raised his head. With the tip of his tongue he moistened his lips. His eyes kept darting to the door.
“Have you heard any more about her?” Gandador asked.
“Not much. The girl is definitely not in Nikkoi. I could visit the surrounding kingdoms, see if they’ve seen anything…”
Kiethara’s stomach dropped. She felt sick, the room swaying before her. Gandador already knew she was not in the forest. Did that mean he had already burned it down? With that knowledge she was suddenly trapped, more lost than she had ever been before. Surely she would have felt it if something had happened to her forest…?
Wait…
Had not Gandador spoken something of changing motives? Her head had been so full that day, the revelation that he was her father driving everything else out of her mind. Aaron had told her that his intention of stealing her powers had been ludicrous, that her father was finally beginning to make unwise decisions. Maybe, then, he had not gone to the forest, he had not burned it down. That was the hope she clung to now, foolish, irrational hope…
“Yes, and do not delay. If you are able to find her, hold her there and send a messenger. Pay the man well and make sure he understands to get here as fast as he can. Give him your horse. We cannot continue anything until we find her, so you understand how much of an importance this is to me. Hopefully, that will drive you to act accordingly.”
Kiethara let out a breath of relief. He had not mentioned anything about harming the forest.
Gandador’s head whipped around so fast she hardly saw the movement. His
black eyes bore into the corner, only feet from where she stood. Kiethara knew that if she had been standing in that exact spot and receiving that glare, her legs would have given out.
Sinsenta, on the other hand, did not seem to have heard. He was gazing at Gandador with a worried expression.
“Sir…?” he asked tentatively.
Gandador turned back to him, looking remarkably calm and controlled. He scanned Sinsenta with hard eyes, making his puppy-dog servant even more nervous with each passing moment.
“Start with Redawn,” he told him, articulating each word slowly.
“Of course,” Sinsenta said. He bowed his head and exited the room.
Kiethara wasted no time in her attack. She jumped forward, losing her invisibility, and wrapped her hands around his neck. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, the small movement leaving her breathing heavily, her crystals glowing menacingly in the gloom.
Gandador was not shaken by any of this. Quite the contrary; he nonchalantly uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. She could not see his expression, but the pulse beneath her hands was not going much faster than per usual. Compared to hers, it was rather slow.
“Welcome, my daughter,” Gandador said in a mocking tone. It sounded as though he were trying to suppress a smile.
“I…Don’t call me that!” she stammered. Out of all the things she could have said, she didn’t know why she decided to shout that. In her mind she had already gotten used to calling him her father, but when he spoke it aloud like that…It just wasn’t right. It didn’t sound natural.
“Why not?” he asked her. She didn’t answer.
“Well, then, what title would you prefer?” he asked, his tone so serious that she was slightly taken aback. What was wrong with him?
“I would prefer if you would shut your mouth,” she growled, her temper quickly flaring.
“Ah, yes, of course. You must be here for a reason. You haven’t killed me yet, so you must still want something.”
His words chilled her. She had not thought her attack through this far. Actually, she hadn’t thought out any of this at all. She actually couldn’t believe that she was here, with him, in this position. She was more powerful right at this moment than she had ever been. She could kill him.
Her hands tightened around his throat slightly. Could she do it?
“Child, do you honestly think you could strangle me in the time it would take me to get free of your grip?”
“Do you honestly think you could pry away my fingers if they were on fire?” she shot back.
“What do you want?” he sighed.
“Answers,” she replied without thinking.
She had come here without a plan, without an idea, and certainly without thinking any action she had taken so far out. Things, however, were becoming a little clearer as her reasons caught up with her instincts.
It would be reasonable to kill him.
Then why was she asking for answers? And more importantly, answers to what? The last time she had checked, getting answers required asking questions first.
“I’m waiting,” Gandador said coolly.
“Why have your intentions changed?” she blurted out.
“Hm, that’s a good question,” Gandador mused. “I suppose your friend Aaron told you that I was losing my mind?”
“Something along those lines,” Kiethara said.
“I may have presented myself as a desperate fool,” Gandador chuckled. “But I can assure you, I’m not. Is not every man guilty of possessing a trait that other men find detestable? All of us own the same traces of greed, hate, and anger. In no way whatsoever, though, can we be guilty for having some kind of dream or goal. In life, we must own some motive that drives us!
“At first, mine was to destroy the forest. I had enough resources made to keep me powerful with magic for years! There were doubts and risks in the plan, though. One day, I might run out of magic.
“So I began to think: what if I could have the power that the guardian had? What if there was a way to harness your blessed power? Then nothing could stop me and I could take the forest from the guardian. I would always have the certainty of power.
“After that thought had planted its roots in my brain, I began with the first step of my plan: to observe. That day we first met, that was what I had been doing above all else, though I still had not known how much I believed it myself. If I had had the opportunity to burn the forest down that day, I would have. But I didn’t. With my observations, as well as Sinsenta’s reports, and the knowledge I had gained from your mother, I had my answer. Everything pointed towards your crystals. I noticed that they brightened with any emotion, just as they had now. The stronger the emotion, the brighter they got. The fact may seem inconsequential, but I needed to know everything so I wouldn’t accidentally kill you or break those charming bracelets. Everyone’s magic is controlled by emotions, but with the guardian, it is taken to a whole new level. Every feeling they have dictates their power. If they feel angry, they burst into flames. Frightened, and the wind starts up. Happy, and the flowers begin to bloom at their feet. I have matched every power to every emotion. I have observed you closer than you’ve ever dreamed.
“Yet I have still not come up with a full solution to taking your powers. The secret lies in you crystals, I know that. If only they were around my wrists! First, they need to come off, but I fear they might go dead once the connection is lost. It might be impossible. I do not know.”
Kiethara was silent as she contemplated this. Could it be possible? He had given her a much more detailed answer than she had expected. She imagined—with blood-chilling horror—Gandador standing over a burned kingdom with her gold bracelets wrapped around his thick wrists. No. Before she let that happen, she could kill herself. The power was much better lost to the world than placed in the wrong hands.
“What are your weaknesses?” she asked, partly to distract herself from the previous thought. She needed to take advantage of this situation.
Gandador laughed. “I should have known you would want to ask that question. A little juvenile, though.”
“Just answer the question,” she growled.
“My weaknesses? Hm, well, I suppose you could say greed is one of them. Although, from a different point of view, some could call it determination. I set my goals very high, you see.”
Well, that didn’t help her in the slightest. If only Gandador had a weakness like hers. A necklace; that was all it took to drain her of her power. No matter how many times she said it in her head, it never failed to amaze her.
But what if there was some object out there that could do that to him? Oh, she would cut off a limb to see his face when she held up some insignificant piece of finery and watched him drop to her feet, not a single drop of magic running through his blackened veins.
“Who else is working for you, other than Sinsenta?” she demanded.
“A few others,” he replied.
“I want names,” she ordered.
“Trike, and that’s the only name that might affect you,” said Gandador.
“Why?”
“He’s the only one who can use magic with any reputable amount of skill, child,” he sighed, his tone suggesting boredom.
“You and two others? That’s it? That’s all you have? I would have figured differently, considering all your greed and desire for authority,” she mocked.
“Power does not come from numbers, and numbers is not what makes a threat a threat. In fact, not to seem arrogant, I see myself alone as quite a threat to you. Don’t be so narrow-minded, please. I want my child to possess a little more clarity with these things.”
Kiethara tightened her grip around his neck even more in frustration. His answers always seemed to insult her—she couldn’t seem to install the necessary amount of fear to establish her authority in this conversation. Although, a fifteen year old girl trying to intimidate a grown man who had already committed murder had been a long shot, even she had to ad
mit that.
And now she was out of questions. Her mind was blank and her mouth was dry. The answers she had received had not been satisfying in the slightest, and more importantly, they had not given her anything else to ask. It was as though he had made it that way on purpose. Sometimes, his cleverness impressed her to the point where she almost—almost—admired it.
And now she didn’t possess the strength to kill him. This was her golden opportunity; this was the moment that could end all of her problems. The forest would no longer have any threats against it. Her life would go back to the way it had been before it had shot off in this wild direction, where there had been no fear, no sorrow, no anger…
No love…
As soon as these things had come was as soon as they could leave. With any luck, it would not happen again. Not in her lifetime; however, she knew that all the luck in the world would not make her forget. She would always have the scars.
If only she could find the strength to kill him!
“Are those all the questions you wished to ask me?” he inquired in a nonchalant tone.
Kiethara bit her lip, racking her brain for a question that did not make her sound like an idiot child.
“I think—” she began, but she couldn’t finish.
As soon as she had started talking, Gandador twisted around in his seat so fast that her fingers were pried off of his neck. In another mind-rattling moment, he was behind her.
Kiethara found herself suddenly airborne. Her back collided painfully with the wooden desk. Most of the candles fell and scattered on the floor, causing the room to go so dark that she could barely make out Gandador’s outline as he held her down by the neck.
Gandador leaned down towards her, tightening his grip menacingly as she clawed at his hands, gasping for air.
“Did you honestly believe that you could get away with this? Were you truly foolish enough to place your life in my hands?” he asked in a terrifying whisper.
She didn’t answer. She thrashed her legs, looking for purchase, but he brought his knee up and pressed his weight down harder.
“Now, why don’t you explain to me just how you got to be in the kingdoms, eh?” he asked.
Kiethara didn’t answer. Her navy blue eyes were wide, her breathing reduced to short gasps. He really was going to kill her. He had given up his absurd dream.
A cloud seemed to press over her eyes as her breath seemed to slip away.
“Very well, don’t answer me. But mark my words, I will find out,” he promised.
Gandador let go of her. Kiethara did not pause, she did not breath, and she did not ask him why. She took off, throwing open the door with a fierce bang, sprinting off into the street.